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It came to me a while ago that perhaps we, as humans, are built to be storytellers. That it’s in our DNA, some vital part of us that cannot be denied.

From the dawn of humanity when people gathered around campfires or in sacred spaces, taking their turns to add their voice to a tale, we have always shared stories. Before written word it was how we kept records of our ancestors, of our people, of the things that happened, weaving them into songs or epic poems or tales for the dark nights as winter drew in. We painted pictures on cavern walls, blew bright ochre onto rock faces, describing happenings and visitors and successful hunts, religion and family and daily life. Paintings became carvings, pictures became writing and we kept telling stories, about commerce and battles and dark fantasies from the past, using words to frighten people into submission or to uplift them to their best selves. Bards became a class of their own, keepers of the stories, each one adding their own pieces to the puzzle, carrying our ancestors’ deeds forward in time.

And now, in this modern age, it seems we still have stories to tell. Agents are inundated daily with manuscripts, writing clubs and online communities abound, and competition to be published is fiercer than ever. I cannot count the number of people who, when I tell them I’m a writer, say, ‘I’d like to write a book as well.’ Apparently in Iceland one in ten people will publish a book and most people will write one – an entire country of people with stories to tell.

So what is it that has caused this apparent upsurge in writers appearing, a generation of storytellers born anew? I wonder if social media has something to do with it, giving us all a voice, a chance to share our life with the world whenever we choose to do so. Every person has a story – now with Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and blogging all you need is a phone to share it with the whole world. We are encouraged to write every day, to post new statuses, update our stories as they happen, 140 characters to tell of each unfolding event. Small wonder then that this daily writing exercise may have inspired us to do more, awakening the urge to weave a bigger, better, more exciting tale and get it down on paper (so to speak).

For much of what we write these days is digital and it makes me wonder whether our words will be around to be deciphered a millennia from now, or if the ephemeral nature of electronic files means they will simply fade away, a forgotten crackle of energy. Personally, I still enjoy holding a real book in my hand and have published both my books in paperback as well as Kindle versions. And perhaps some scholar, centuries from now, will hold a copy of it in white gloved hands (or maybe it will hover, unsupported, above a pristine surface) to be read, my words analysed for whatever secrets of this present time they may hold.

Interesting to consider, isn’t it?

This post appeared in its original form back in November 2014, when I was participating in my first NaNoWriMo, and far fewer people came to visit my blog. Oh, and that NaNo book? I did finish it, though it took me almost two more years to do so – it became A Thousand Rooms.

Today I’m quite honoured to be visiting author Louise Allan’s blog, as part of her Writers in the Attic series. Please do pop over and take a look, and also check out some of the other writers featured in the series – each of them have a story to tell, whether it’s about how they came to be writers, what writing means to them, and how they approach the creative process.

In her introduction, Louise talks about the idea of penpals, and how our digital friendships fostered through blog posts and email are the modern equivalent – I would absolutely agree. Through messages, comments and emails, Louise and I have forged a friendship I value, and I know that one day, when we eventually meet, we’ll greet each other as old friends.

In fact, I’ve been incredibly fortunate to meet some wonderful friends through this site, with whom I might never have otherwise connected. And so I just wanted to say thank you.

I spent most of today wandering around Roman ruins and a museum with a group of children from my daughter’s school. I saw some wonderful mosaics, coffins complete with skeletons, and dozens of finely made Roman artifacts.

So, for my Wednesday Wander this week, I thought I’d take a trip back to where it all began. Where an empire was formed that reached east and west, controlling territory as far away as this misty small island (and possibly further still, if the stories about South American shipwrecks are true).

This, my friends, is ancient Rome.

Well, it’s what’s left of it, anyway. I took these shots from a viewing platform overlooking all that is left of that mighty city – the ground level is far lower than that of modern Rome, which is why I appear to be so high above the ruins. I quite like how all the fallen columns seem to have been gathered and placed tidily together – I don’t know whether they’ve been reinstated in the intervening years, but it did seem to me as though work was ongoing at the time.

Another thing that struck me, as I looked at these photos, is how much digital photography, particularly on our phones, has changed the way we record things. I took these photos with a regular old film camera, back in the days when you had to drop the film off and wait to see if any of the shots were good. Film wasn’t cheap and I was travelling on a budget, hence why I have only three shots of the city, rather than the eight thousand or so I’d probably take today.

I remember Rome as a city of contrasts – full of great beauty and history, yet crowded and dirty. I also visited ancient catacombs along the Appian Way – went underground and saw ancient tombs and painted shrines, roped off areas leading who knows where. I have no photographs of this at all.

I think I might need to go back to Rome…

Thanks for joining me on another Wednesday Wander – see you next time!